


Resilient

by ascatman



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Bipper, Blood, Masturbation, Not a nice fic, Possession, Self Harm, bill makes fun of dipper for cutting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 02:34:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4373894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ascatman/pseuds/ascatman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bill wants to find out how resilient to being sliced open his new body is. Dipper is very much not about this idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Resilient

“This body is so resilient! How much blood do you think it can lose before it quits on me?” Bill looked up at the ghost of Dipper, the spitting image of the poor kid, considering he’d taken his body just a few hours ago. His grin widened almost inhumanly as he pulled a knife out of his pocket, no doubt pilfered from the kitchen while Dipper wasn’t looking. “What if I just cut it open? Think it’d last very long?”

Dipper’s eyes grew wide as he watched the demon press the blade of the knife against his wrist, _his_ wrist! It didn’t take more than a second for him to shake his head vigorously and attempt to grab his own body’s hands to stop them before Bill did something stupid that wound up with his body too dead to be habitable any more. Of course he phased through the demon, there was nothing he could do other than float helplessly in front of him. He’d never felt more useless in all his life and now he was going to die because of it. In one last attempt at appealing to Bill, Dipper let himself drift down closer to him, crossing his arms and subconsciously chewing on his bottom lip. “If you do that then I’m literally going to die. If my body dies then you won’t be able to run around in it anymore, right? That’s how that works, isn’t it?”

There was a small flash in Bill’s eyes, accentuating the way that they widened just barely at the thought. He _did_ like having a human body to screw around in. The knife was slowly tilted to the side, the flat edge pressing against Dipper’s wrist as the demon inhabiting his body contemplated his options. Finally he brought his gaze back up to Dipper, grin still stretched wide across his face as he suddenly pointed at the kid’s ghost with the tip of the blade.

“One cut. None of those major blood pumping things of yours though, promise. I’ve just _got_ to find out what it’s like, I’m so past the bruising and bone breaking phase, I’m a demon, kid, let me see a little blood!”

Dipper stiffened when the knife was aimed at him, despite the fact that he couldn’t actually be injured in this state, and by the time he’d found it in him to relax, he was made to tense up all over again at Bill’s suggestion. Of course he didn’t want _any_ cuts on his body, but it seemed Bill was intent on doing it whether he consented or not, might as well have it be on his terms if the demon was really going through with it. Dipper narrowed his eyes before sighing in defeat and crossing his arms once more. “One. Only one. And it can’t be somewhere that people will see!” He really did not feel like answering any questions regarding self-made scars on his wrists.

That seemed like a good enough deal for Bill, considering he lowered the knife and started making a move to strip off his shirt. “You got it, Pine Tree, stomach it is then!” He managed to get the shirt lifted up partway before Dipper stopped him once more.

“Are you kidding me, man? It’s _Summer_ , what if I go swimming or get too hot and feel like taking my shirt off? Find somewhere else.” He couldn’t very well impress Wendy if he couldn’t even take his shirt off at the pool, he’d probably look ridiculous!

Bill groaned and rolled his eyes, getting fed up with all of these stupid rules, honestly there was nothing stopping him from just plunging the blade right into his chest and letting the whiny kid’s body die, but he was nicer than that. Sometimes. “Fine,” he replied with an air of finality, before setting the knife aside and standing up to unceremoniously drop his shorts to the floor, much to Dipper’s dismay. He was met with the demon’s wide grin as he sat back down, kicking the shorts off his feet and leaving the kid’s lower half clad only in a pair of white briefs.

Dipper chewed his bottom lip as he did his best to direct his gaze elsewhere, not expecting the silence that followed as Bill moved to press the knife against his skin, only to pull it away once more. When nobody had said anything for a few seconds, Dipper dared a look back at him, only to be greeted by a sudden cackling laughter. He tried to keep his posture strong, but his shoulders sunk as his eyes drifted down to his own body’s thighs, staring at the lines of scars that ran along his otherwise smooth skin, some a little fresher than others. “Th-those are,” he started, but his voice cracked, making his cheeks heat up before he cleared his throat and tried to continue, “I fell, uh… into some blackberry bushes. They only scratched up right there though, pretty funny, right?”

The look Bill gave him could only be described as knowing. He knew Dipper was full of shit and Dipper _knew_ that he knew. The silence that followed was tense, with Bill’s eyes staring at him from his own body, his mouth twisted into an amused grin. “You can’t keep secrets from me, Pine Tree, when are you going to learn?”

And at that moment, Dipper’s head was suddenly filled with flashbacks, memories all playing at once in a distorted mess until they came to a stop on one in particular. He didn’t want to see this. There was nothing he could do as he watched himself, clear as day, pressing a small blade to his skin. He saw himself just moments before, swiping the razor from where his dad kept them, trying so hard to keep his voice down as he turned on the shower to drown out any sounds, to wash away the evidence. He couldn’t look away no matter how hard he tried, it was a memory, shoved into his brain like it belonged there. Dipper heard his voice crack, watched small lines of red mar his skin, and he thought about the kids in school who had seen his birthmark, who locked him in the bathroom and barricaded the door, how no one found him until the day was over and all the buses had left. It wasn’t Mabel’s fault that she was home sick that day, or else she surely would have noticed his absence and come to his aid.

Apparently ghosts could cry, because Dipper was tearing up pretty badly, though he quickly pulled down his cap to hide his face as much as he could. “So what? It’s not that big of a deal. I don’t need to look at this, just do it already and give me my body back!” He wiped his tears away quickly and glared up at the demon inhabiting his body, only to see that he was stifling laughter. Bill threw his head back as he finally let it go, one hand clutching his stomach as he flopped back on the bed and drove the knife into the mattress.

“You’re such a riot, kid, I can’t even _handle_ you sometimes! Let’s save that memory for later, shall we?” He wiped a tear from his eye and gave a few mismatched blinks in Dipper’s direction. “Crying over something that didn’t even damage your body? Humans are so pathetic, how do you even get by without dying if that’s all it takes to get you all worked up?”

Bill’s tone of voice was grating, to say the least, he had a way of yelling everything and sounding far too enthusiastic about things that were not the least bit appropriate. Dipper clenched his fists and flew at him, which of course did him no good whatsoever. He couldn’t hurt Bill like this, he couldn’t do anything. Those feelings of complete and utter uselessness came back just as hard as they had on that day and it took everything in his power not to just start screaming as Bill continued to laugh like Dipper being upset was the most hilarious thing in the world.

Before he even had a chance to register what was happening, Bill had torn the blade from the mattress and pressed it into his thigh, right over the top of his scars. So much for hoping that those would heal and go away forever, he’d never pressed this deep before. The demon’s gaze locked on Dipper’s for just a brief moment before he was focused on his hand, slicing a long line all the way across his thigh. That was it though, they’d made a deal, but Bill wasn’t stopping. With a pleased sigh, Bill pressed his legs together firmly, so he could continue his line over to the other thigh, before dragging the knife in a diagonal line toward his crotch, then completing it by marking a similar cut down the first thigh, where his final line met with the original one. Dipper shouldn’t have been surprised at the shape. With his legs pressed together like that, the cuts formed a clear triangle.

“You said one cut,” he muttered after a moment, arms crossed and head hung low.

“It _was_ one cut! I didn’t pick the knife up once!” Bill held said knife up to inspect the blood that dripped down the blade, licking his lips as his chest heaved from the deep breaths he was taking. “Felt amazing though, I can’t imagine how you could want to lock yourself away and cry while doing this. You like the design, by the way? Thought your original pattern was a little dull, so I spiced it up for ya!”

“That’s my body!! I have to look at… at _that_ every day?!” Dipper was fuming, the aura of his ghost actually glowing a light red color. “I _hate_ you, I don’t think I’ve actually ever hated someone more in my entire life!”

Bill’s eyes narrowed, brows furrowing, though the grin didn’t leave his lips as he brought the knife up close as though he wanted to smell the blood on it. “What a charmer, it’s nice to see that you seem to know how to talk dirty to a demon.” There was something in his voice that made Dipper shudder, the red vanishing from his aura as he felt disgust take over the anger. And then Bill stuck his— _Dipper’s_ —tongue out to lick the blood from the blade with blatant disregard to the sharp edge that bit into the muscle. “Say it again.” His voice was deeper than normal, and actually sort of quiet for a change, it made Dipper want to gag.

“You’re disgusting!” he spat, letting himself hover down closer to the floor with a scowl.

“ _Ohh_ man, that’s it, stellar job, kid.” Bill let his bleeding tongue run across his teeth, staining them red as he dropped the knife on the bed next to him and let himself lay back with something that almost sounded like a moan. “This is fantastic, never thought a human body could feel so good!” His hand drifted down, grazing against the crotch of Dipper’s underwear, which was (much to Dipper’s horror) sporting a visible bulge, and finally the hand came to rest on his thigh, just shy of one of the cuts. “Looks like pain isn’t just hilarious,” he managed under a laugh, fingers dancing along the laceration, nails pressing into it. He hissed, though there was a pleased look on his face as he drew even more blood from the wound. Dipper was going to get a fucking infection at this rate.

There was nothing that Dipper could do about this, Bill was the one with a body and _he_ was, well… useless like this. He could only watch on in horror as the demon brought his bloodied hand up and shoved his underwear down before taking hold of his erection and _stroking_. Bill started making all these obscene sounds almost immediately, moaning and bucking his hips as he used his blood like lube. It wasn’t until Dipper finally tore his gaze away from the mess that he realized Bill was staring at him, lips pulled into a tight grin, eyes almost unnaturally wide. This was all so wrong, he wanted to scream and shout and throw himself at the demon in front of him, but he was certain that anything he did at this point would only encourage him, so he turned away, glaring at the wall and trying to plug his ears to keep all of those moans from reaching them.

And then all at once, Bill was throwing his head back, a loud and exaggerated cry leaving him as he bit down hard on his cut tongue and came all over his shirt. It had to be over then, what else was there for Bill to do now? Dipper dared a glance back at his body, to find it a horrible mess, blood smeared all over his legs and sheets, a spatter of white and red that spread across his torso and seeped into his favorite shirt, and Bill’s awful stupid laugh starting to echo through the room.

“You got a short fuse, Pine Tree, I was hoping to mess around a little longer. That was fun though! I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around _real_ soon. Have fun explaining this one, you’ve got about thirty seconds by the way. See ya!” And then Bill was gone, leaving Dipper’s body limp and wrecked. He didn’t know what the heck he meant by that ‘thirty seconds’ line, but he certainly wasn’t about to take the chance on it being some sort of time limit on how long he had to get in his body.

With a groan at the pain to come, he flew down, taking control back. For a moment, he felt nothing, and he opted to take deep breaths as he struggled to pull his underwear back up. His hand brushed one of the cuts in the process and suddenly his body was screaming out in agony, everything hitting him in a rush of stinging pain. Tears rolled down his cheeks and he rolled onto his side, pushing the knife to the end of the bed and managing to smear more blood on his sheets along with it.

That was when the door opened. His seconds were up and he looked like the poster child for a self-harming ad. He shut his eyes before he could see who had seen him, and prepared for the biggest most unbelievable explanation of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me if you actually want me to write more I guess? I don't actually have a plan for who walked in or what they think of all this.


End file.
